


Over and Over

by Amethystina



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: But you guys seem to like it when I do angst, Car Accidents, Grief, Happy Ending, I mean it hurts like hell before we get there but there IS a happy ending, I promise, Injuries (nothing too gory though), Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pain, Repeated Temporary Character Death, So here have some angst, Suicide, lots of pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystina/pseuds/Amethystina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cougar is a difficult man to break, but everyone has their limit. His is reached when he's forced to watch Jensen die over and over again, helpless to stop it. Cougar doesn't know how or why the same Friday keeps repeating, but he knows that if he doesn't stop it somehow, Jensen will keep dying.</p><p>The question is if Cougar <em>can</em> fix it, and just how willing he is to face his own failings in order to do so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over and Over

**Author's Note:**

> [gizmo1022](http://gizmo1022.tumblr.com/) asked for a Groundhog Day-esque Cougar/Jensen story, where a traumatising day was repeated for one of the boys. I have plans to write one from Jensen's POV (a comic fix-it!) but decided to start with Cougar. 
> 
> This, uh, will hurt. Like, a lot. Because not only is Cougar repeating a day during which Jensen dies over and over again, but he's battling his own internalized homophobia. So this is not a happy fic, although there IS a happy ending. Just make sure to read all the warnings, okay?
> 
> I'm actually pretty proud of this one, and it was interesting to write a fic where Cougar isn't perfect. I usually make him very morally sound and dependable, so it was fun throwing that out of whack with a heavy dose of homophobia. I hope you like it, my lovelies!

 

Jensen died on a Friday.

It wasn't a special day by any means. They were in Atlanta, because one of Aisha's numerous contacts supposedly had information on where Max might show up next, and demanded a face-to-face meeting. It was difficult to say if anyone but Aisha and Clay believed it would actually amount to anything, but they were there all the same, loyal to a fault.

Cougar couldn't deny that it was tiring to chase after a ghost, though, especially one he was beginning to realize would never be found. He didn't say so out loud, however, knowing that would be bad for morale.

It was a particularly beautiful Friday in May, the sun shining down from a bright blue sky, which only made the whole thing so much more difficult to grasp. Considering Jensen's chosen profession, one would expect him to be taken out by a vicious blast or a bullet, but that wasn't the case. There were no explosions or firefights, and it wasn't even tangentially related to Max.

Jensen died in an accident.

The day began innocently enough, with Cougar waking to Jensen belting out "My Heart Will Go On" at the top of his lungs. The made bed opposite to his told Cougar that Jensen had forgone sleep entirely, and was in all likelihood searching for caffeine to combat the resulting sleep deprivation. Cougar couldn't help being impressed by Jensen's lung capacity, and for managing to sing the song in the entirely wrong pitch and loudly enough to be heard even from several rooms away.

If Cougar had known what would happen he might have behaved differently. If he had known that Jensen would be dead before the end of the day he would have made sure to treasure what little time they had.

Instead he got up, got dressed, and went to the kitchen to accept a mug of coffee from a grinning Jensen, before seeking out a less noisy part of their safe house where he could sit down and read. There wasn't much else for him to do that day.

Cougar didn't look up when Jensen told him that he was heading out for supplies, and merely shook his head when Jensen asked if he wanted something from the store.

He didn't know that was his last chance to see Jensen alive.

He only shrugged when Pooch asked where Jensen was, five hours later, but Cougar was beginning to feel a creeping sense of dread. The silence didn't feel like a relief anymore.

It would be just like Jensen to get distracted by something shiny in an electronics store, or to stop and flirt with a pretty girl, but five hours was excessive, even for Jensen. They let each other know when they were delayed, so that the rest of them wouldn't start suspecting that they had gotten kidnapped or taken out.

Cougar tried not to worry when Pooch volunteered to search for Jensen, or when Clay ordered Cougar to stay at the safe house, in case Jensen came back while they were out. Aisha looked as if she thought it to be a big inconvenience, but still agreed to help Pooch and Clay.

Cougar wasn't sure why Clay ordered him to be the one to stay behind. Clay had to know that even if Cougar was patient and collected in most situations, his sense of calm didn't extend to scenarios where Jensen might be in danger. Waiting alone at the safe house was maddening.

Later he wondered if Clay had made that decision because he already suspected what was wrong, and didn't want Cougar to find out from anyone but him.

When Clay called a little over an hour later, Cougar picked up on pure reflex. It sure wasn't by choice. It was as if he knew even before he heard the actual words, dread making his chest constrict.

He still couldn't believe it.

A car accident.

Pooch had found the street where it had happened, and when he'd asked around he had been told that someone had gotten hit by a car. On foot it was just ten minutes away from their safe house.

Jensen had been declared dead at the scene and the driver had fled before the ambulance or cops had arrived. Since Jensen hadn't had any ID on him the hospital hadn't known who he was or who to call. For hours Jensen had been a John Doe lying dead at the local morgue, while Cougar had sat reading, grateful for the blessed silence.

He wanted to throw up.

Cougar knew that he was in a state of shock, and it wasn't until he was faced with Jensen's body that he stopped denying the truth. Seeing Jensen pale and motionless made him understand that this really was happening.

Jensen was dead.

Cougar couldn't breathe. His throat seized up and he had to grab a hold of one of the steel gurneys in the morgue to keep his knees from buckling.

They had been forced to break in after nightfall. While they could have just walked in with one of Jensen's fake IDs and asked to identify the body, they weren't next of kin. Cougar was listed as Jensen's health care proxy but only Jess would be able to claim his body, and they had no intention of forcing her to fly to Atlanta to do that.

Stealing a body from a morgue would definitely make the headlines, but since no one had Jensen's real identity it would probably be less risky than if they went through the proper channels.

Cougar couldn't stop staring at Jensen.

The blood had been cleaned away but there were several gaping wounds — from broken bones and the impact with the asphalt. It was gruesome. Jensen shouldn't be so motionless.

How could something so pure and vibrant just _die_?

"Cougar."

He startled when Clay said his name. It took effort to tear his gaze away from Jensen, and Cougar felt dizzy the moment he had. Sounds came rushing back, his own heartbeats echoing loudly in his ears. Cougar swallowed, and when he met Clay's gaze he knew that he must look as wretched as he felt.

"Will you manage?" There was a certain amount of concern in Clay's voice, but he seemed to know better than to touch Cougar, even in an attempt to offer support.

Clay looked tired. Pooch's jaws were tightly clenched, his eyes glassy. Aisha was in charge of the getaway vehicle this time, since Pooch refused to wait outside. Losing Roque had been one thing, but for Jensen to die like this — so suddenly and without either of them being there when it happened — that was more difficult to accept.

They were all in shock.

Cougar swallowed and nodded, even if it was a blatant lie. He wouldn't manage. The silence was already beginning to seem like its own entity, pressing down on him and making it impossible to breathe.

What would he do without Jensen?

Cougar moved on autopilot. He replied to questions with nods or shakes of his head only. There were no words he wanted to speak; he was fairly certain that he had forgotten how to form them.

He felt disconnected, as if the world just couldn't reach him. Sounds were muted, his hands trembling and unfeeling as he helped steer the slab with the black body bag towards the exit.

Cougar couldn't remember what happened next. To be honest he didn't care. Everything was just a big empty void of numbness, and a steadily growing hole of despair in his chest.

Jensen was dead and Cougar couldn't even remember what his last words to him were. He hadn't spoken to Jensen that morning — barely even looked at him. Cougar would never speak to him again, hear him sing, or feel the unconditional security Jensen offered. One of the few firm points Cougar had left in his life was gone, and he realized that he was lost, once and for all.

There was no way that he would ever find his purpose or recover from losing Jensen. It just wasn't possible.

He was adrift.

 

* * *

 

The next morning it took a second for the events of the previous day to come rushing back, accompanied by crushing grief. Cougar had half a mind to just stay in bed, until he realized what had woke him up.

Cougar's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright in the bed, eyes wide and heart thundering in his chest. Jensen's singing was distant — a couple of rooms away at least — and his bed was untouched, as if he had never gone to sleep the night before.

Cougar had never been as ungraceful as he was in that moment, scrambling out of bed, limbs shaking from urgency and panic. He had enough presence of mind to grab his jeans, and stumbled several times when he tried to pull them on and move in the direction of Jensen's voice at the same time.

It couldn't be. Jensen was dead. Jensen had died yesterday.

But maybe it had been a dream — a terrifying, vivid dream. God, Cougar prayed that was the case.

He practically flew down the flight of stairs and when he reached the kitchen he was moving much too fast, slamming into the doorframe. Jensen's jumped at the sound, stopping mid-chorus and whirling around to face Cougar.

"Shit! Don't scare me like that!" Jensen chastised, but his eyes were bright and his body vibrated with energy. His glasses were slipping low on his nose, his hair in disarray, and Cougar's eyes flickered to confirm that those raw, gaping wounds were gone.

Jensen was alive. It was just a dream. Cougar almost whimpered in relief, and would have reached out to kiss Jensen if he hadn't known what a bad idea that was.

"Hey, you okay?" Jensen frowned in concern. Cougar supposed that was only expected, since he didn't usually come stumbling into the kitchen, half-naked and scared out of his wits.

"I'm fine," he replied, pulling back when Jensen reached out towards him.

Jensen froze for a second, his hand hovering indecisively in the air between them, before he caught himself. He turned back to the kitchen counter and his coffee, but not nearly fast enough; Cougar saw the flare of pain in his eyes and the way he swallowed.

"Do you want some coffee?" Jensen's voice was deceptively light — as if the past couple of seconds hadn't even happened — but Cougar knew better. Jensen always did this. Turned away, changed the subject, and pretended like Cougar wasn't breaking his heart one tiny piece at a time.

And Cougar let it happen, since he knew that he shouldn't want Jensen as much as he did. He might murder and steal, but there were some things he would never do. Keeping the distance between them was necessary, because no matter how much he prayed for the urges to stop, they never did.

He could lower himself to the physical, but he refused to accept the intimacy and comfort Jensen wanted to share with him. If it was mere lust he could almost pretend that he didn't mean it — that it was temporary and something he would conquer eventually. Cougar could blame it on being weak rather than being fundamentally wrong.

Kisses and soft touches were more difficult, so Cougar didn't allow them. Jensen obeyed without argument, even if it was obvious that he was suffering. He accepted Cougar's terms, and Cougar tried to pretend that he didn't know why Jensen did. It was only too easy to see in every single one of Jensen's smiles, and how he kept welcoming Cougar with open arms, even if he received so little in return.

"Coffee sounds good." Cougar swallowed down the bad taste at the back of his mouth, telling himself that it was for the best, despite the tight line of Jensen's shoulders.

Jensen didn't say anything when he handed over Cougar's coffee, and his smile didn't reach his eyes. Cougar ignored it, instead returning to their shared room to put on more clothes.

It was better like this.

Only, it clearly wasn't.

Five hours later Pooch asked if Cougar had seen Jensen and he swore that his heart stopped dead in his chest. Dread was too small a word to describe the feeling grabbing a hold of him.

He tossed his book aside and pushed past Pooch in his haste to reach the door. He didn't stop to take the car they had at their disposal, or tell Pooch what was going on — Cougar wasn't even sure himself.

It was closer to five minutes when Cougar ran.

He turned down the street and saw a lingering police car, an officer talking to a sobbing woman on the sidewalk. Dark, drying blood was smeared across the asphalt and several bystanders were loitering further away, shaking their heads and speaking in low, mumbling voices.

Cougar didn't need to ask them what had happened. He already knew. Somehow Jensen had died again, just like yesterday.

Cougar swallowed back the pain and fear, trying to wrap his head around what was going on, but how could he? Jensen had died twice in as many days. That didn't make sense.

But it was obvious that the nightmare had only just begun.

 

* * *

 

Cougar swallowed when he woke to the sound of Jensen's enthusiastic singing, much like the two previous days. Only they were the same day. Cougar didn't know how or why, but this was the third time he woke up to that infuriating song, alone in the room he and Jensen shared. He knew that if he got up he'd find Jensen preparing coffee in the kitchen, sporting his bright purple t-shirt with the binary print.

Just like the two previous days.

Cougar rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Jensen had shown him a movie about this, or at least a similar concept. Cougar couldn't remember that it had been quite as morbid, but the repetition had been there — reliving the same day over and over again. He couldn't remember how the movie had ended, but he was fairly certain that it didn't matter. This loop had something to do with Jensen dying. It had to.

That happened both days, even if Cougar's behavior had been different. Jensen hadn't told him that he was leaving the second time — probably because Cougar had shied away from his touch — but he had still gotten hit by the car, at the exact same spot as before.

Maybe Cougar was supposed to stop it?

Not that he needed a time loop to want to save Jensen's life, but it seemed plausible. He was reliving the same day because it was the day Jensen died, and Cougar had to prevent it.

Cougar climbed out of bed, got dressed, and was handed a mug of coffee when he entered the kitchen. Unlike the other times he stayed with Jensen, calmly observing him while trying to figure out the best way to keep Jensen from getting run over.

The opportunity was given to him when Jensen asked if he wanted anything from the store, and Cougar offered to accompany him there. Jensen looked delighted and Cougar could feel some of his tenseness melt away. He would keep Jensen safe.

He was still wary when they started walking, his fists clenching when they turned down the street where Jensen had gotten hit. It was the busier part of a residential area, several cars driving past and a fair share of people on the sidewalk. Jensen was talking animatedly, practically bouncing while he grinned widely at Cougar, soaking up the attention as if he was starving for it.

Only half of Cougar's focus was on what Jensen was saying, while the rest was trying to figure out why Jensen had stepped out onto the road the other two days. He hadn't gotten hit at a crossing, or because the driver had lost control of their car and plowed into the pedestrians, so he must have done it himself.

But what could possibly make Jensen step out onto a busy road like that?

The answer came in the shape of a freckled, blonde little girl.

If Cougar hadn't been so caught up in his own thoughts he might have reacted fast enough to reach out for the girl, before her chase after her ball brought her too close to traffic.

Cougar had only ever seen Jensen move so fast and purposefully during missions, when instincts took over and he carelessly risked his own life to save his teammates. He reached for that little girl with the same determination, and Cougar was too late to help.

It was over in a second.

Everything became a blur; a scattered chaos of impressions — the mother's terrified scream, the shriek from the breaks, and the sound of the impact. Cougar wasn't sure if he imagined hearing bones snap.

Then he was by Jensen's side, kneeling on the asphalt.

Jensen's eyes were wide with pain, his breaths gasping, gurgling sounds at the back of his throat. Blood was oozing from his temple and Cougar didn't know where to touch him without hurting him or making things worse.

"D-d-did she m-make it?" Jensen stuttered. He seemed barely able to move, but his hand found Cougar's, squeezing tighter than expected.

Cougar threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing the girl cradled in the arms of a pale, shaking woman. The one he had seen talking to the police the day before.

" _Sí_." Cougar didn't know what else to say.

He was supposed to have stopped this. His presence was supposed to make a difference, but he could understand if it hadn't. Jensen would never let a little girl get hurt — least of all one that reminded him of Beth.

"G-good. That's good." Jensen blinked a couple of times, a rattling cough sending a tendril of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Cougar didn't know what to do. His brain shut down completely. Receiving the news after the fact had been bad, but to watch Jensen slowly choke on his own blood was even worse.

Cougar's hand shook when he reached out and gently treaded his fingers through Jensen's hair, trying not to brush against his wounds. Jensen's eyes flicked to meet his and a grimace, vaguely reminiscent of a smile, spread on his bloodstained lips.

"I l-love you, Cougar."

It was the first time Jensen had ever said that to him.

Three second later he was dead.

 

* * *

 

The next day Cougar stopped the girl before she ran out onto the road, only to have Jensen attempting to catch her ball for her. The collision wasn't quite as violent, but it still left Jensen convulsing from pain and Cougar helpless to stop the life from bleeding out of him.

Jensen told him that he loved him, but died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

 

* * *

 

On the fifth day Cougar slipped out before Jensen, to make sure that the little girl and her mother wouldn't even be on the same _street_ as Jensen. It was quite easy, since few people could resist a handsome, smiling stranger asking them for directions. The mother even blushed under the attention, even if Cougar meant nothing by it. He just wanted to keep Jensen alive.

He almost thought he managed, too, until he heard the distant sound of screeching tires. He didn't even have to turn around to know what had happened.

Why hadn't it worked? Something else must have made Jensen step out onto the road, but Cougar wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was. How was he supposed to account for and counteract every tiny possibility? Even if he knew what was going to happen he would have to go through day after day of Jensen dying before he caught them all.

He wouldn't survive that. He couldn't stand watching Jensen die over and over again. He just couldn't.

There had to be some other way.

 

* * *

 

Cougar almost growled when Jensen handed him the same mug of coffee as all the other mornings. He was getting sick of waking to the same song — one he didn't particularly like to begin with — and he wasn't in the mood to smile when he knew that Jensen would soon ask him if he wanted anything from the store. Cougar liked being a step ahead of people, sure, but this was something else entirely.

"Hey, I was planning on going to the store today — to get supplies and all that. You want anything?"

Cougar swallowed, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring down at his coffee.

"Don't go."

"What?" Jensen sounded understandably confused.

"Don't go outside." Cougar looked up, feeling his chest constrict at the thought of having to watch Jensen die again — or even hearing that he had.

The silence hung heavy between them, Jensen's coffee mug raised halfway to his lips. He slowly lowered it again, a worried frown settling on his face.

"Cougs, are you okay?"

Cougar shook his head. He was barely holding it together. The team might consider him to be nigh unbreakable, but this, right here — seeing Jensen suffer — was one of the few things that could ruin him.

That was why he felt so guilty about using Jensen for sex while never offering the affection he so clearly deserved.

"Why do you want me to stay inside?"

That was a reasonable question, but Cougar wasn't sure how to answer it — until he realized that he could just tell the truth. Jensen, if anyone, would actually believe him.

"I'm stuck in a time loop," Cougar blurted out, seeing Jensen's eyes widen in surprise.

"You— what?"

"A time loop." Cougar put his mug on the counter before stepping closer, holding Jensen's gaze, as if to prove that he wasn't lying. "You die. Over and over again."

Jensen seemed to need a couple of seconds for that to settle and Cougar waited patiently for his reaction. He would be willing to do almost anything to prevent Jensen from dying again.

Five times was five times too many.

"So... you want me to stay inside because if I do I might not die?" Jensen still looked understandably confused, but Cougar could have kissed him for accepting the whole thing so easily. He didn't argue or ask if Cougar was being serious.

It had never really occurred to Cougar just how strong the trust between them had to be, until that moment.

Jensen's lack of protests might just be because he sensed Cougar's distress and chose to do whatever it took to fix it, but Cougar didn't actually care at that point. As long as Jensen was kept out of harm's way Cougar didn't need to know about Jensen's motivations.

He nodded, trying not to show how tense and weary he felt. Jensen's soft smile did a lot to ease his worries.

"Okay. I'll stay in today." Jensen looked relaxed and reassuring, taking a sip from his coffee before stepping closer. He didn't touch — he had stopped doing that after the first time they had slept together and Cougar had moved out of his reach the next day — but the close proximity was enough to make Cougar's tense muscles uncoil. "We can watch a movie, if you want?"

Cougar felt himself smile, surprised that he knew how after what he had seen the past couple of days.

"Sure," he agreed.

Jensen's responding grin was happy enough to make Cougar's heart miss a beat.

Like promised they stayed in the whole day. Cougar couldn't help tensing every now and then, expecting some other kind of accident to strike, killing Jensen out of pure spite, but it never did.

They watched movies on Jensen's laptop, sitting maybe a tiny bit closer than Cougar would usually allow, but neither of them mentioned it. Cougar needed the reassurance and Jensen would never say no to intimacy.

Jensen was about ready to crash later that evening, having been up for God knew how many hours, and Cougar took great comfort in that. It meant that they both went to bed at the same time and he could listen to Jensen's rhythmic breaths before falling asleep, reassuring himself that Jensen was still there and that Cougar had kept him from dying.

But he couldn't quite silence the tiny voice asking if he really had fixed the problem. Watching Jensen die five times had been excruciating, yes, but it was almost anticlimactic that the solution would be as simple as _telling_ Jensen about the time loop.

It felt too easy.

 

* * *

 

When Cougar woke to the sound of "My Heart Will Go On" and Jensen's untouched bed on the other side of the room, he felt that he couldn't be blamed for how he stayed right where he was. It was cowardly and selfish, but the failure made his breaths hitch from panic and he didn't feel like moving.

He had saved Jensen but the loop wasn't broken.

Clay called several hours later but Cougar never picked up. There was no point.

 

* * *

 

After that he took to telling Jensen about the loop first thing in the morning, more than once timing it so that Jensen almost choked on his coffee in surprise. Like the first time, Jensen never questioned it — never doubted Cougar's sincerity — and as flattering as that was, they still couldn't find a solution.

Going outside meant that Jensen died. He wasn't always hit by the same car, but he never survived the full day. Cougar always had to, though, sometimes helping to steal Jensen's body from the morgue, sometimes shutting himself away and refusing to talk to anyone.

Staying in meant that Jensen lived, but the loop was reset at midnight. Jensen was the one to suggest not falling asleep Friday night, so Cougar wouldn't have to wake up in the morning. Jensen was practically running on steam and caffeine the last couple of hours, but despite their best intentions it didn't work. The moment the clock struck midnight everything went black and Cougar opened his eyes to that same Friday morning, with Jensen's out-of-pitch singing in the background.

They just couldn't seem to break the loop.

Cougar had counted the days at first, but began to lose track after thirty. He didn't forget the numbers of times Jensen had died, though, and the only saving grace was that they were fewer than the days he hadn't. Still, eleven times was more than he could take, especially since he had no idea how to put an end to it all.

He was reaching the end of his rope.

It was Jensen who brought up the possibility that there might be something else Cougar was supposed to do — that maybe saving Jensen wasn't the actual goal, or maybe just one out of several. But it was impossible to know what the other ones were.

A part of Cougar didn't _want_ to know, since he feared that it would be something he couldn't fix.

That evening Jensen interrogated him on various possibilities, attempting to pinpoint what the other goals might be. Cougar knew that Jensen was only trying to help, but the invasive questions made his skin crawl and before he knew it he snapped at Jensen to stop.

Jensen looked hurt for a second, before apologizing like a scolded child. That only made Cougar feel worse, his patience running thin. But even that couldn't justify him snarling at Jensen to get out.

Nothing could.

Cougar only meant for Jensen to leave the room, so that he could breathe between the insistent questions, frustration, and suffocating fear. It wasn't until he heard the front door close that he realized what he had done.

Cougar had told Jensen what would happen if he went outside; he did so every morning. But he had stopped asking Jensen to stay indoors, simply assuming that he would, out of self-preservation. It was routine by then, to the point where Cougar delivered the speech about the time loop without infliction — as if reciting boring safety instructions.

He hadn't realized just how cold that made him seem. How Jensen must think that Cougar saw all of this as an annoying inconvenience, or maybe even Jensen's fault. Cougar hadn't told this Jensen — or any other Jensen — how it tore him up inside to have this happen day after day. Sometimes he forgot that Jensen started with a clean slate every morning, and couldn't know how desperate Cougar was getting.

Today Cougar had been harsher than usual. Today Cougar had made Jensen believe that he actually wanted him to walk out the door and inevitably get run over by a car. Today Cougar had made Jensen think he cared so little about him that he'd tell him to die.

Cougar was too late. Jensen was already choking on blood by the time Cougar got there.

He tried to apologize — to tell Jensen he didn't meant it, not like that — but Jensen wouldn't even look at him. He was staring unseeing at the dark sky above, warm tears trickling from the corner of his eyes.

Cougar was the one choking by then, his apologies turning into pleas and hands trembling when he stroked Jensen's cheek, but Jensen didn't respond. He looked like he had died long before he actually drew his last breath — as if he didn't even care anymore.

Jensen didn't tell Cougar that he loved him that time, but it was just as well.

Cougar didn't deserve to hear it.

 

* * *

 

Cougar wasn't sure if he was getting suicidal or just desperate.

He barely felt the car slam into him. It was when he hit the asphalt that white hot pain shot through him like lightning, making him gasp. He was choking on thick, metallic blood a second later.

But that was nothing compared to the look on Jensen's face when he threw himself onto his knees next to Cougar, eyes wide with panic.

"No! No, no, no, no, don't do this." Jensen's hands were shaking, fumbling as they brushed against Cougar's cheekbone. They tangled into his hair, desperate yet surprisingly gentle. "Cougar, look at me. Please look at me."

Cougar did. Jensen was white as a sheet, his eyes empty and wild, like he couldn't quite comprehend what was going on — or maybe attempting to deny it.

"You're going to be fine, okay? T-this— it'll be fine. You'll be fine." Jensen's voice cracked and Cougar could see his expression crumbling. "Don't do this to me, Cougar. Don't die. You can't die. Please."

The sob made Jensen's shoulders shake. Cougar tried to move, but it hurt too much.

" _Please_. I can't lose you. I love you. I love you so much." Jensen was pleading, his fingers running through Cougar's hair in a repetitive motion, while his other hand supported Cougar's neck.

Cougar wasn't sure what parts of him were broken or if anyone had called for help, since that didn't really matter. He only had eyes for Jensen — the naked, desperate plea in his eyes and the sharp, hitched breaths.

"Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I can't—" Jensen choked on a sob, his words thick and garbled. "I d-don't know what to do without you. I love you. Stay. Please stay."

Cougar tried to swallow but the blood was rising too quickly. He couldn't find his breath. He wasn't even sure what he would say if he _could_ speak. Nothing would help ease the grief he saw in Jensen's eyes — nothing could reduce the pain of seeing the one you loved die.

Cougar would know.

When his final breath rattled through his chest and his eyes fluttered close despite Jensen's jarring cry, at least he knew this wasn't the way.

This wasn't how he saved Jensen.

 

* * *

 

Cougar got dressed to the sound of "My Heart Will Go On", leaving his hat behind before heading for the kitchen. His steps were soundless even if he moved on autopilot, feeling drained and lifeless. He supposed dying did that to you.

Cougar stopped in the doorway, just staring at Jensen's broad back as he danced around in the kitchen, preparing his coffee. Jensen was always in motion, one way or another. If it wasn't hand gestures or emphatic facial expressions he was tapping his foot or weighting back and forth on his heels. There was an abundance of energy stored inside that body of his, and Cougar wasn't sure if he could stand seeing it extinguished. Not again.

He wasn't even aware of what he was doing until he had already slipped in behind Jensen, wrapping his arms around him. Cougar didn't know if he was pushing into Jensen's back or pulling Jensen closer to himself. He just needed to feel how solid and alive he was.

Jensen stiffened, probably both from surprise and confusion, but made no attempt to tear free. Not even when Cougar buried his face against Jensen's neck, or when his hands clenched around Jensen's t-shirt, clinging to him for dear life.

He needed to feel Jensen's warmth. He needed to hold him, just for a couple of minutes, and pretend that this could be solved somehow; that he wouldn't have to live out the rest of his life watching Jensen die.

Cougar was pressed up so close that he could almost feel the wild thump of Jensen's heartbeat. He never allowed himself this — the closeness and intimacy. It was a part of himself he just couldn't seem to accept, even if he craved it. He'd rather push Jensen away than have to face his own shortcomings.

He was such a fucking hypocrite.

A warm, broad hand settled over Cougar's. The pressure was hesitant, as if Jensen wasn't sure if it was welcome, but it still sent a shiver down Cougar's spine.

"Hey..." Jensen's voice was soft and careful, probably because Cougar had never initiated anything like this before. "Are you okay?"

Cougar squeezed tighter, trying desperately to fight the growing lump in his throat. His heart was struggling to keep up, his chest constricting to the point of pain.

He wasn't okay. He wasn't sure if he would ever be okay.

He shook his head, his lips causing a tremor when they brushed against the bare skin on Jensen's neck.

"What do you need?" Jensen was so earnest, his concern tangible, woven into those four simple words.

The sincerity only made Cougar feel worse. Jensen never turned him away, even if Cougar wouldn't look at him in the mornings or even acknowledge the thing between them. His own insecurities made him take advantage of Jensen's kindness and concern, and he never gave anything back.

Deep down he knew that he loved Jensen every bit as much as Jensen loved him, but it was wrong. Nothing could change that. He couldn't allow himself to love Jensen, even if he wished that he could.

He wished that he didn't have his stupid, disgusting values.

"Just you," Cougar murmured, not surprised by how his voice shook. He was holding on to Jensen as if he would drown without him.

Jensen tried to turn but Cougar didn't release his hold, forcing Jensen to remain where he was. Fingers wandered tenderly over Cougar's, the touch sending a warm shiver across his skin.

"You have me, Cougs," was the gentle reply. "You know that. You'll always have me."

There was so much pain in those words, despite the attempt to be reassuring. Jensen would never abandon him, always doing everything within his power to be there for Cougar. He wouldn't hesitate to destroy himself, if only it helped Cougar. He would allow himself to be used for sex, even if he was never shown the love and concern he deserved.

And Cougar let him. He was so grateful for Jensen's support and care that he let Jensen drive himself into the ground, pretending that he couldn't see the pain in Jensen's eyes whenever Cougar pulled away. He told himself that there was nothing he could do about that — loving another man wasn't natural. He couldn't give Jensen what he needed.

He was a selfish coward.

He was slowly but surely sucking the life and innocence out of the marvelous, brilliant being in his arms, and he didn't know how to stop it. He had tried resisting — to not seek out Jensen's warmth when the nightmares grew too bad or when a mission had been particularly straining — but Jensen gave him something no one else could.

Jensen kept Cougar alive.

And now Cougar was killing him. Over and over again, Jensen died, because Cougar couldn't save him. It was Cougar's fault.

He pressed his forehead against Jensen's neck, swallowing down the sob he felt rising in his throat. Tears were burning behind his eyelids but he didn't allow them to fall; he didn't deserve the relief that would come from crying.

"I know." His voice didn't even sound like his own, ragged and near breaking. "I _know_."

It was his fault. He was doing this. He wasn't sure how or why, but this was his fault. He was killing Jensen, both literally and figuratively.

Jensen let out a confused sound when Cougar released him. Cougar was already halfway to the door by the time Jensen caught up with the sudden shift, calling out after him.

"Cougar! Wait! Where are you—"

Cougar slammed the backdoor to avoid hearing the concern in Jensen's voice. Cougar was slipping. The loop was draining him, slowly but surely, and he just wanted to pretend, even for a second, that holding Jensen like that was something he could allow himself to do.

A tiny part of him pointed out that he obviously _had_ — Jensen hadn't protested and it had felt so good to be that close to him. What exactly was it that made him think that something so perfect was wrong?

His thoughts were churning and he didn't care where he went. He just ran, trying to get away from the jumbled mess of emotions inside of him. He couldn't deal with them.

Hours later Clay tried to call him and Cougar didn't even need to pick up to know that it was to tell him that Jensen had died. Probably because his concern for Cougar's well-being had made him go outside, searching for him on the streets.

Jensen never failed him. He always managed to carefully mend Cougar back together again, whenever he started cracking.

It was tearing Cougar apart to know that he couldn't offer the same in return.

 

* * *

 

The next couple of days Cougar spent mostly in silence, save for what it took him to explain the situation to Jensen. He didn't speak a word to the others, since he knew that it wouldn't make much of a difference. He was the only one who would remember it come morning.

Cougar knew that he could technically leave Jensen to his own devices as long as he promised not to leave the house, but Cougar couldn't help wanting to stay close to him. Sometimes they watched movies and sometimes they just sat in the same room, doing their separate things.

It showed that Jensen didn't remember any of it the next day, but Cougar did. He lost track of how many hours he spent appreciating Jensen being happy and alive, fondness growing in his chest for each day that passed.

He didn't realize that he kept drifting closer until the day he was sitting with his feet in Jensen's lap, with a warm, grounding hand resting on his ankle. The biggest surprise was that Cougar didn't want to pull away. Even if he felt a flicker of hesitation he didn't have the heart to ruin the blissful look on Jensen's face.

He looked calmer and more serene than Cougar had ever seen him, and Cougar would be lying if he said that he didn't feel the same. He gravitated towards Jensen more and more, especially when he stopped fighting the need to do so.

It felt like coming home.

Cougar realized that if he hadn't already been in love with Jensen before this started, he certainly was now.

 

* * *

 

Cougar accepted his morning coffee with a thankful smile, which made Jensen look adorably bashful. It was fascinating to watch Jensen move around in the kitchen, surprisingly fluent when one looked beyond the flailing gestures and occasional skip. Cougar stood leaning against one of the kitchen counters, the explanation about the time loop ready on his tongue. He usually tried to give it before Jensen told him he was going to the store.

This time, Cougar waited longer than usual, unable to tear his gaze away from Jensen. Something warm and pleasant was growing in his chest, but he chose not to put a name on it. Cougar hadn't made a decision, exactly, but he wasn't sure if he needed to. He knew what he wanted and he was too tired to fight it.

He placed his coffee on the counter and moved towards Jensen.

"Jake."

Jensen turned to face him, a questioning look on his face and mug halfway to his lips. Cougar reached out and carefully took the coffee from his hand, placing it next to the sink, well aware of Jensen's puzzled head-tilt.

It was almost too easy to frame Jensen's face with his hands and move close enough to place a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. Jensen was frozen stiff, his eyes wide with disbelief when Cougar pulled back enough to meet his gaze. Several conflicting emotions flickered past on Jensen's face — confusion, caution, desperation, and a fair share of hope — but he remained silent.

Cougar had never done anything like this before. The few kisses they had shared had only ever been passionate, bruising ones while they were having sex. Cougar's chest ached when he realized that it was the sweetness that surprised Jensen, since he didn't usually get it.

Cougar rubbed his thumb along Jensen's cheek, noticing how Jensen swallowed thickly, still tense and uncertain. How could he have allowed it to go this far, that tenderness made Jensen afraid to reciprocate? How could Cougar live with himself, when this was what he had reduced Jensen to?

He made sure to be as gentle as possible when he moved in for another kiss. The noise Jensen let out was heartbreaking — a whining sob of disbelief — and Cougar's didn't blame Jensen when his breath seemed to hitch. Or when Jensen broke the kiss to bury his face against Cougar's neck, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing so hard it almost hurt.

He wasn't going to deny Jensen this. It might only last for a day, but Cougar couldn't stand it anymore — he wanted to give Jensen everything he had, for both of their sakes.

"Am I dreaming?" Jensen's words were muffled against Cougar's skin, breathless and trembling.

Cougar shook his head, holding on tighter when he felt Jensen begin to shake.

" _Perdóname_ ," Cougar whispered, not knowing what else to say. There were no words for how badly he had hurt Jensen, and he wasn't sure how to convey his regret. He turned his head, Jensen's hair tickling his cheek. "Stay with me. Just for today."

"I'm always with you, Cougs," Jensen replied. "You know that. You'll always have me."

Cougar closed his eyes and nodded, even if he knew that wasn't true. Tomorrow Jensen wouldn't remember any of this, but Cougar could at least treasure the closeness while he had it.

They spent the day together, and despite the weird looks they received from the others Cougar made sure to touch Jensen as often as possible. He just couldn't get enough, and Jensen obviously craved the intimacy just as much as he did.

For the first time since the time loop started Cougar actually forgot about it. He was so caught up in the feel of Jensen's skin against his, the smell of him when he buried his face in Jensen's hair, or the taste of him, which seemed to get better and more addicting for each soft, lingering kiss they shared.

It wasn't until they went to bed and Cougar wordlessly pulled Jensen down to share his that he even remembered that he wouldn't have this in the morning. He wouldn't have the warmth and affection, since Jensen would still be thinking that Cougar didn't want it.

He didn't let that stop him. He pulled Jensen close, holding him as tightly as one would except when you knew it would all be lost in the morning. Jensen clung to him just as desperately, even if he didn't know about the time loop — Cougar had never told this Jensen about it.

All this Jensen knew was that Cougar had suddenly decided to overcome his homophobic tendencies and embrace what they had. Cougar realized that was just the way he wanted it to be. This Jensen didn't need to know about the rest; even if Cougar would wake up alone in the morning, at least he had made this one Jensen happy.

Jensen fell asleep in his arms, face buried against Cougar's neck. Cougar smiled and closed his eyes, feeling himself relax, despite knowing that he only had a couple of hours to enjoy the bliss. He could handle that, knowing that he had finally admitted what he knew all along.

His whisper was hushed in the quiet room.

" _Te amo_."

 

* * *

 

Cougar woke slowly, a comfortable warmth pressing against his back. Something was tickling at the back of his neck but he didn't feel like moving. The silence in the room seemed almost reverent, and he let out a slow breath when he felt the arm wrapped around his waist tighten, pulling him closer to the solid wall of warmth behind him.

A second later realization slammed into him, making him stiffen.

There were no sounds except for Jensen's breaths, fanning against his neck. There was no distant singing, and while the other bed in the room was empty it was because Jensen was curled up with Cougar in his, not because he had been awake the whole night through.

It wasn't the same morning. This wasn't Friday morning.

Cougar wasn't aware of Jensen being awake until he felt him attempt to pull away. It confused him at first, until he realized that Jensen probably thought that he had stiffened because of the close proximity. Cougar grabbed Jensen's arm, holding him in place.

"Cougar?" Jensen sounded hesitant, his voice small and careful.

Cougar swallowed, trying to breathe through the relief washing through him. It was over. The time loop was broken. And he had Jensen right there with him, warm, solid, and alive. Why would he ever let him go?

"Stay." Cougar closed his eyes, fighting against the sting behind his eyelids. "Please, just... stay."

There was a brief moment of silence before Jensen slid closer again, chest pressed against Cougar's back. Jensen's hand wandered up, settling over Cougar's heart. It was still difficult to breathe but Cougar made sure to lace their fingers together, holding Jensen's hand against his own chest, needing it to ground himself.

"Okay. Of course," Jensen whispered, before placing a light kiss against Cougar's neck. The tenderness made Cougar shiver, but if anything he moved closer. "I was afraid that you'd changed your mind..."

"Never," Cougar said firmly, taking a deep breath. "Not again. This is what I want."

He could feel Jensen's smile against the bare skin on his shoulder.

"Okay." Jensen relief was tangible, and the sigh he let out was blissful — soft and sweet in the stillness of the room.

Cougar relaxed in Jensen's arm, and for the first time in far too many days he felt utterly at peace.  


 

**Author's Note:**

> [CarpeDentum](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CarpeDentum) betaed and she was _so angry_ with Cougar in this one. I don't think I've ever seen her so upset with him before. But, granted, he did make a whole lot of bad choices and she becomes a very frustrated cinnamon bun when people make bad decisions that hurts others.
> 
> You can find the original post on Tumblr [HERE](http://amethystinawrites.tumblr.com/post/118624175049/over-and-over)


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